


Bond Unbreakable

by Lunarium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-18 00:32:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11280018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: Allura, desperate for answers, seeks out Haggar, convinced the witch is not working for Zarkon on her own accord.





	Bond Unbreakable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TereziMakara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TereziMakara/gifts).



“I’m in,” Allura reported into the radio, setting Pidge’s mind at ease. She had come to the Green Paladin demanding her to invent a device she could wear that would implement the same cloaking technology Pidge had installed on the Green Lion. She would need it for her little visit to the Empire. 

Infiltrating the Galra Empire this time around was far easier. They were hit badly, and Zarkon, from what they knew, had nearly died in the battle— _So close_ , Allura had thought. Their systems were still weak enough for Pidge to access surveillance cameras, and from what they had gathered the emperor was being healed. Meanwhile, the rest of the empire was on standby, perhaps awaiting Zarkon’s next orders or perhaps from a second in command (there was always a second in command, her father had taught her, and because of that she had to make her move soon.) But it gave them an edge. 

The Empire were not expecting a retaliation. Not that Allura was planning on taking them all down. Not with one of the Paladins missing and his teammates still reeling from that distressing bit of news. And Allura too had injuries that were still healing. What she sought was one woman in particular. 

Allura rubbed her tired eyes as they adjusted to the dimmed lights inside the hall, taking in her coordinates, and made for her location. 

Scarcely she slept since Shiro’s disappearance, half-mad with worry and half-alarmed by the disturbing news that had befallen her during her battle with the witch. She didn’t have the heart to tell anyone yet, not even Coran; he would have advised her to let it be, but she needed to know. 

She took out the guards at a speed that didn’t allow either of them to make a move nor to alert for backup. After ensuring that this was the right door, she found a spot to hide. Then she waited in the shadows, eyes glued to the door where the emperor and his witch rested behind.

*

It was some time before the doors finally slid open. When they had, Haggar appeared, hood over her head. She was alone just as she was when she had entered the healing quarters. The guards had stood before the door when she entered, and there would have been little need for any inside.

But now she stood alone. Noticing the lack of guards about, she glanced around her for a moment, tensing as the doors slid shut behind her, before suddenly being kicked against the wall. Before she could recover, the effects of magic swept around her like invisible rope, its grip tightening. Growling angrily, she fought to overthrow the spell, but it stubbornly stayed, gripping around her neck and middle. 

“You!” she hissed when she saw it was Princess Allura, her eyes glaring at Haggar. A soft aura cast about the Altean Princess, greater than the light that engulfed her when they last fought. The other woman was exhausted, tired, grieving — Haggar sensed all that — but she was ever stronger, and the fear of its effects on her granted her resolve to overthrow the spell, throwing out a curse that struck Allura’s arm like a throwing knife. 

She gave a cry and redoubled her magic, crushing Haggar between the weight of it. Giving a brief wave with her wrist, she dragged Haggar down the hall a few steps and into another room, empty save for themselves. Roughly Haggar was thrown into it, and the doors were locked shut, sealing them both inside. 

Haggar scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, trying not to show how her arms and legs wobbled under the pain of Allura’s magic. The pain would ebb, she told herself. The main matter was the woman before her. 

“What do you want? Why did you come?” she hissed. 

“I came here for answers,” Allura demanded angrily. Weaponless though she was, Allura stood with her hands on her hips. Haggar could rip her to shred, but there was something about the way Allura glared down at her that seemed suddenly, and uncomfortably, too familiar. 

“Answers for _what_ , child?” 

“You’re Altean!” The hitch in Allura’s voice was not missed. Suddenly the tough exterior broke before her as Allura leaned forward. “Why did you turn your back on our people!” 

Narrowing her eyes, Haggar turned her back. As if she would divulge all her heart to the princess brat. 

“Don’t turn your back on me! I am the Princess of Altea, and you as one of the last Alteans still answer to me!” 

_I answer to no one!_ Haggar’s eyes flashed dangerously but she still kept her back facing the princess. The surface of the monitors ahead reflected them, so there was nothing Allura could do that Haggar would not catch. 

“Please, Haggar.” 

The voice was softer, begging, patient. Haggar watched as Allura’s reflection took a step towards her. Even from here she could spot the tears teeming on her eyelids. 

Haggar’s hands balled into fists. She could already feel the hex ricocheting from her fingers and palm. 

“Why are you bothering me?” 

“I’ve been thinking, and I think I have realized something: I don’t think you’re working for Zarkon out of freewill,” Allura said. 

Haggar gave a snort. “What makes you think that?” 

“He destroyed our world!”

“He was once a friend to King Alfor, your own father!” 

Allura paused, wincing under Haggar’s words. “But you remained with Zarkon! Why? It just doesn’t make sense. Everyone in our planet died. _Everyone._ Did you beg him to keep you alive? If you need sanctuary, I can give you that! Just tell me, please!” 

Haggar sighed. What a stupid girl.

“I cannot believe you would be glad that Altea is gone. Do you remember how many of us were on Altea when it was attacked? Five and a half billion. Were any of those someone you cared for? A friend? Surely you had friends before Zarkon?” 

Slowly, Haggar turned to face her, but her face remained impassive. 

“What about your parents?” Allura asked. “Were they still alive? Do you remember their home? Did you live there? Did you have any children of your own?” 

Haggar’s face remained a cold stone.

A tear rolled down Allura’s cheek. “Did you have any brothers? Sisters?” 

The tiniest blink broke the frozen expression. In that moment the doors slid wide open with a bang, and a beam shot through, striking Allura right on the chest. Her face broke into that of pure agony, a scream lost in her throat. 

The anguished face, frozen in eternal seconds, so much like—

And that was when something, long buried in Haggar’s mind, finally broke. 

“Haggar!” one of the druids called out, as many more poured into the room. “You had not returned and we came seeking your whereabouts! We feared you were under attack!” 

The one who had shot at Allura raised his hand again, but Haggar shot back at the druids, knocking them all backwards. Taking a few steps towards them, she drew out a long spell, erasing their memories of what had just taken place. They will wake up and think the Princess had taken them all down while they and Haggar fought with the wench. 

Then she grabbed Allura, hoisting her up with a disgruntled grunt — damned bitch was much taller than herself and her suit added on weight — and dragged her out of the room. To her relief, no other druids or other members of the empire were about. She was already too angry to want to deal with anyone else. 

“Where did you come from?” she asked through gritted teeth. Allura raised her head, taking in her surroundings, at Haggar, realizing what was happening. Weakly she pointed towards the point of her entrance. 

Haggar wasted no time. She led her back to the entry point, ensured Allura’s helmet was on fully, then pounded on the airlock door. 

“Don’t ever think of coming back here,” she hissed in Allura’s ear before kicking her out and resealing the airlock. Then sinking to the ground, she tried to steady her shaking hands.

*

She was so much like Sarrat her sister. The way she would stand in their kitchen with her hands on her hips, hair pulled up and soot on her face, ordering Haggar to remain put until she knew all of her multiples by heart. The two girls were orphans, but Sarrat was just old enough to adopt her sister like her own. And she was tough and mean and made sure they both survived, were well-fed and educated.

They only had each other. Their home was a little hut easily missed if one took down the road to a back alley. They had trees and some stray _klanmüirl_ to give them a nice view; it wasn’t so bad. Haggar’s role in the tiny family was simple: study, study, study. Though they didn’t have enough to send Haggar to school, it wasn’t an excuse to have her not be as educated as possible, Sarrat argued, from simple maths to the most complex of magics. 

She scavenged schools for outdated and discarded books, having Haggar read textbooks that were vandalized by some bored ungrateful kid. She worked any job that would hire the firecracker and haggled with every shop owner to get the biggest fruit and vegetable their money could buy. 

And she was _mean_. Sometimes Haggar hated her and just wanted to sleep on the cool kitchen table of their tiny hole near the back alley and not study. But at night they slept on the same cot and it would have been cold had they not snuggled up, and with Sarrat’s arm over her protectively Haggar was safe, warm, and thankful. 

What took her sister away was a monster hailed as a god, a savior for all people. It stood taller than all the buildings of Altea, multi-colored and shining bright and the most ridiculously pretentious thing Haggar had ever seen. Sarrat was caught in the crossfire of its beams during a fight that did not involve them. 

All of Altea celebrated Voltron’s victory. Haggar wept.

*

“You’ve never received proper education?” the man asked. His face was still bleeding, but Haggar worked diligently, patching up his face as well as she could. It will leave a scar, but it was the least of his troubles. Behind them his planet lay in fragments, but his eyes were set on her.

“Yes, Lord Zarkon,” she said in a low tone.

*

If it were not for Sarrat pushing her, Haggar would never have been hailed as a genius by Galra Emperor. She was properly trained, given all she needed to further her education. To become his equal in the empire.

She sought to make robots far superior than the fiend that killed her sister. She learned to seep quintessence from planets, watched as all those who gloated and cheered the day Sarrat die now join her in the cold dirt, crushed by the weight of the planet collapsing on them.

But all she did did not bring back Sarrat. Haggar brought on her anger on other worlds, her grief never abating. She would take down the entire universe for the sister and only world she had lost. It was a bond unbreakable, her and Sarrat, and the whole universe would feel her grief. 

The murdering Paladins would feel her grief. And Voltron itself she would outlive. She had all the knowledge and the power to make it so. She would live all the lives for herself and Sarrat. 

Haggar looked up from her table. She had been covering her face in her hands as the memories rolled back to her. For over ten thousand years they were buried and still Sarrat’s ghost haunted her, the face so much like Princess Allura’s when that beam struck her. 

Her hands were still shaking. A grief that would not heal for many more millennia. 

“Stupid girl,” Haggar muttered, though she could not help the rare smile. She allowed herself that, in the privacy of her own quarters. She would either kill the Princess or be killed by her one day, but that didn’t change one fact. 

The damned Altean Princess was just like her beloved sister.


End file.
